Deserving
by KateToast
Summary: She felt like crap these days. For just one moment, she wanted to feel better. Kate perspective on the Jate kiss in season 2.


**A/N:** I cannot explain how good the combination of the LOST finale plus summer break has been for my muse... expect many more stories of various characters and pairings!

The following takes place during the Jack/Kate kiss in Season 2's "What Kate Did".

**XXX**

"Yeah I'm sorry. I'm _sorry _I'm not as _perfect_ as you. I'm sorry that I'm not as _good_!"

"Ok, ok. What's going on with you?"

"Just forget it."

"No don't walk away from me, no. Kate, Kate, Kate. It's ok. It's ok. Hey."

"This place, this place is crazy, it's just – I can't, it's driving me nuts –"

"I know. It's ok. It's all right. All right?"

She knew she shouldn't be kissing him. She was an emotional wreck on this island, and now was suddenly and unexpectedly torn between two polar opposite men: one who reminded her of her past, who let her stay in the comfort of her flawed skin, whose troubled youth paralleled her own; and one who represented what she could be, who challenged her to be brave and strong and _good_, who made her think, _I can change. He doesn't think I'm a lost cause like everyone else. I can be different._

It was confusing, these conflicting feelings. For the past 24 hours she had sat by Sawyer's bedside and babbled nonstop to the unconscious man, worried sick over his health. She wouldn't be able to take it if he died.

And then he'd said those things to her. (_Why'd you kill me_, he'd growled, and it was too much.) Her history of violence lay before her in the form of a chiseled bad-boy with a sad life that she could not help but love, just a little bit, for reasons she was not sure of.

She had sat in the jungle internally freaking out, scanning the area for that damn black horse, mentally putting as much distance as possible from the man potentially dying in a hatch in the ground.

Then Jack had shown up, ever her hero, ever the type of person she aspired to be like. Since landing on this strange island she had gravitated towards him, followed him, listened to him, argued with him, gotten pissed off at him, and fell in love with him, not necessarily in that order. She wouldn't be able to take it if _he_ died, either.

He had grabbed her and twisted her into his arms, holding her tight, letting her have the meltdown she needed. His concerned face had been so close to hers, and she'd thought of all the times she had wanted to kiss him in the past month and a half, the missed chances and second-guessing they'd both been party to. And she couldn't help it, but she thought of Sawyer too, of him helplessly lying on that bed as she and Jack tried to fix him.

She felt like crap these days.

For just one moment, she wanted to feel _better_.

So she grabbed his face with both hands, so gentle she surprised herself. It wasn't anything like she'd imagined, nothing similar to the hundreds of scenarios she'd played out in her mind. She didn't expect that she'd be crying, that he'd be so worried about her that it was probably causing wrinkles his face was so creased. She never thought it would be after she'd high-tailed it away from another man she deeply cared about, though in a different way.

She could tell he'd been waiting for this, too. The way he kissed her was soft, his lips meeting hers at every break, like he didn't want it to end. She didn't want it to end either, but it had to.

So she pulled away, stared at him, and then realized what she'd done.

She didn't deserve him. She didn't deserve the fond looks he sent her way, the flirty banter, the light teasing, the rush she got in her stomach when he smiled that special way she'd discovered was reserved just for her. She didn't deserve his constant concern, his protection, his criticism or his praise.

And he didn't deserve her kissing him out of the blue in the midst of a meltdown while she wrestled with her feelings of worthiness and shame, guilt and pride, the past and the present. She tried so hard to live up to the expectations he had for her, that she _wanted_ to meet, but at this point she wasn't sure she ever could.

So Kate did what she does best: she ran.

**XXX**


End file.
